


Last Chance

by Chrissy6299



Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Mentions of past child abuse both physical and sexual, Misunderstandings, Tessa dealing with Duncan's immortality, no details though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 13:14:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18447299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chrissy6299/pseuds/Chrissy6299
Summary: Living with Mac and Tessa is nothing like Richie's past experiences in foster homes. It just takes Richie a while to truly believe it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm re-watching Highlander on Amazon Prime, and couldn't help but find Richie to be very well adjusted for a minor out on his own and stealing, after being in and out of foster homes. Also, Richie was 17 in the pilot (and possibly in S1E02), yet the police just released him?
> 
> This story is not beta’ed. Any and all mistakes are mine.  
> I do not own Highlander nor any of the characters.

What was he thinking! Richie promised himself to never again trust anyone else to take care of him. Yet here he was, following a man he didn’t really know to his home.

Gosh, that sounded even worse that it was, or was it? Duncan Macleod wasn’t a complete stranger; he was the co-owner of the antique store that Richie tried to rob, a sword carrying killer (though that was limited to others like him, or so it seemed), partner of the beautiful artist Tessa Noel, and the man who bailed him out of juvie twice now. So not all bad, but not much either.

Nevertheless, what else was he to do? The theft of his file at the orphanage was a fiasco, so he still had no clue about his own relatives. Besides, the detective wasn’t wrong, next time he would be of to prison, and he had no illusions about what that place would be like.  

Richie took a deep breath, opened the passenger side door, and got into the T-bird as he acknowledged to himself that going with Mac was the better of his two options, hopefully…

A short and silent ride later, they arrived at the antique store. Mac invited him in, and Tessa greeted them both with a bright smile. She showed Richie around the living areas behind the store: a cozy living room with fireplace, a large kitchen with dining table, and the master bedroom (not entered during the tour, Richie noted).

They ended the tour _in_ Richie’s new bedroom, with a connecting private bath. Richie had noticed that Mac had been hovering during the tour, letting Tessa take the lead. Now, he was standing in the doorway, not entering, calming Richie a bit more, allowing him to give an honest smile to his new… foster parents?!? How did Mac get Richie out anyway? He was a ward of the state until his 18th birthday, still a few weeks from now.

Well, that was a conversation for later. “Thanks guys, this is great.” Richie said to express his gratitude, trying to ignore all the questions and uncertainty he was feeling. *don’t screw this up, this is your last chance*

“Dinner will be ready in about an hour. Are you allergic to anything, Richie?” Tessa asked.

Richie was surprised, he couldn’t remember anyone ever asking him that, though he guessed that those things were in his file that each foster family got. Foster kids actually came with a manual. “No, ma’am, not really. Though blueberries give me a rash.”

Tessa nodded kindly. “Please call me Tessa, Richie. No blueberries, got it.” And with that she walked off, presumably to the kitchen. As Richie visually followed her exit, his eyes fell on Mac, who had stepped into the room to make space for Tessa as she passed.

Richie mentally squared his shoulders, preparing himself for the rest of the welcome wagon. It was common to be first welcomed with seemingly open arms, but soon came the list of rules, expectations, and conditions.

“Tomorrow we’ll get your things from wherever you were living.” Mac started.

Richie’s eyes went big. He hadn’t thought of that yet. This was the first time he went from living on the streets straight into a home. He had run off once before when he was 15, but the cops had delivered him back to the orphanage when he got caught stealing for the first time.

Mac seemed to have read his mind. “No worries, Richie, I’ve seen a lot in the last 400 years. There isn’t much that shocks me, but if you prefer, we’ll park somewhere within walking distance and I’ll wait in the car.”

Mac’s kindness and understanding was unexpected but very welcome. “I do have a few things I would like to get.” Richie admitted, though he still looked wearily at Mac, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Mac sighed and walked further into Richie’s new bedroom. He sat down on the bed and watched as Richie took a step back, further away from him. “Okay, I’m guessing this isn’t your first, second, or even third time someone gave you a new home.”

Richie nodded. “I stopped counting after 5.” He said quietly, looking at the floor.

“And you are waiting for the list of rules and expectations.” Mac continued. “We’ll keep it simple. The rules: no drugs, no alcohol, no turning tricks, and no stealing.”

Richie was surprised at how casually Mac had included prostitution in that list. He started to correct Mac on that assumption; he had never! Sure, he had been faced with that choice a few times, but he had managed to stay out of that world. Drugs too for that matter; well, mostly. Mac cut Richie’s comments off though, continuing with his rules and expectations.

“I had to pull some strings to get you here instead of back to the orphanage, and it all went pretty fast, therefore I don’t have your file. Honestly, even when it arrives, I don’t want to read it. Tessa and I will support you and care for you as long as you don’t break those rules from this day on. Do you understand?”

Richie responded softly, hopeful that maybe this time things will be different. Most families read his file and assumed they would have the same issues with him, causing a self-fulfilling prophecy. “Yes, Sir. No drugs, no alcohol, no prostitution, and no stealing.”

Mac laughed aloud, and said gently, “Richie, you’re 17, we are not looking to be your parents. We are just two people who have the desire and means to help you straighten out your life. Stop with the sir and ma’am.”

Richie couldn’t help but return the smile. “Thanks, Mac.”

Mac sobered. “Richie, are you going to have a difficult time with any of those rules?” He paused and added, “Before you answer that, one more rule, no lying. If for any reason you cannot tell us the truth, tell us something like ‘I can’t answer that’ or ‘I’m not ready to talk about that,’ but don’t lie to us.”

Looking up, straight into Mac’s eyes, Richie proudly answered “No, I’m clean.”

Mac seemed pleased, but silently kept looking at him expectantly.

“I’ve been stealing for a while now though. Guess that will be a habit I need to break.” Richie continued, trying to figure out what Mac wanted to hear.

Apparently, that was good enough, as Mac smiled again. “I can understand that, I’ve got a friend who has been a thief for a thousand years… and I’ve been trying to get her to stop stealing for the last 300 years. Now that doesn’t mean you get 3 centuries of leeway. You need something, you come to me or Tessa. If you lighten someone’s pocket out of habit or you give into temptation and steal something, you come to us and we’ll deal with it.”

‘Deal with it’ echoed in Richie’s head, his arms protectively folded in front of him. He had heard those words before. *Just don’t steal Richie, these are reasonable rules.*

Mac didn’t seem to notice Richie’s internal conversation this time. “Now, expectations: be respectful to us and yourself, help out in the store, clean up after yourself around the house, help with chores when we ask you to, and an 11 o’clock curfew unless discussed beforehand with Tessa or myself.”

Richie forced himself to take a step closer to Mac, who was still sitting on his bed, to try and show trust and acceptance. “Sounds fair. Thanks again, Mac. It’s good to know your expectations up front, instead of trying to learn unspoken rules by walking through a field of landmines.”

“Good. Dinner will be ready in about 30 minutes. Tessa is cooking, so it will be up to you and me to clean up after dinner. Then, tomorrow morning I’ll start teaching you some things about antiques and things you can do in the store to help out.”

Richie finally sat down on the bed as Mac walked out of his room. He dropped his head into his hands. *I can do this. Mac and Tessa seem kind and reasonable.*

But he couldn’t help but let the doubts back in *Why did they take you in? What is in it for them? Mac seemed awfully comfortable on your bed; you think he chose to sit there at random? And you know what ‘deal with it’ means. Mac is a killer; you think you’ll get of light if you break one of his rules or if you mess up one of the expectations?*

“I can deal with that too.” Richie said aloud to himself, trying to convince himself. *A roof over my head, food in my stomach, and learning actual job skills. The alternative is prison, sooner or later, and the men there aren’t going to be any kinder than Mac.*

“I can do this.” Richie said once more to himself and got up to wash-up in his new bathroom before joining Mac and Tessa for dinner.


	2. Chapter 2

The first week living with Mac and Tessa had gone pretty well. He hadn’t dropped any ancient artifacts in the store, hadn’t broken any of Mac’s five rules, and he thought he did alright living up to their expectations.

Tessa had taken him shopping for new clothes that didn’t scare away the customers while letting him keep his own style. Richie had offered to pay her back for the clothes, somehow, but she wouldn’t hear of it. Both Mac and Tessa had invited him to join them for most meals and evenings relaxing in the living room. Yesterday evening, Richie had gone out to meet up with Angie, one of his few friends that didn’t regularly break one of the five rules (no need for temptation), and he returned home that evening well before his curfew.

Now it was Friday evening, 10pm, and Tessa just wished them both a good night, leaving for the bedroom without any indication from Mac that he was planning on joining her.

They were sitting next to each other on the couch, with the empty space Tessa had left behind in between. It was obvious that Mac had stayed with purpose, and Richie was racking him brain, trying to remember how and when he screwed up.

“It was a good first week, I think.” Mac started conversationally. “Are you doing alright? Do you need anything?”

Numbly Richie nodded. He felt his heart race, he hadn’t screwed up then, which meant…

“I wanted to talk with you about payment.” Mac started.

Richie didn’t hear whatever else Mac may have said. Heartbreaking disappointment was suffocating him. *You idiot, you knew this was coming. Get your act together and pay the man.* Richie scolded himself. *New clothes, a job, food, a place to sleep, it’s a fair trade.*

Mac’s hand on his upper arm shook Richie out of his thoughts. Mac seemed confused, and perhaps concerned, but Richie could fix that. He wasn’t some kid that didn’t know what he was doing. Smoothly, Richie went down onto his knees in front of Mac and reached for the zipper of the Scot’s jeans.

He had pulled the zipper down, and both of Mac’s hands were on his shoulders, when both men heard a sharp intake of breath and a shocked “Duncan!?!” coming from the hallway that led to the master bedroom.

Mac pushed Richie away from him, causing Richie to fall backwards, hitting his head against the coffee table. “Shit.” The immortal cursed.

Richie rubbed his head with one hand, tears stinging his eyes. One of Mac’s larger hands pulled his hand away, expert fingers registering the damage. “Sorry,” Mac apologized, though Richie wasn’t sure for what part the Scot was apologizing for. “That’s going to leave a bump. Go to the kitchen for some ice. I’m going to talk with Tessa, and then I’ll meet you in your room.” Mac said as his warm and gentle hand left Richie’s head and he walked towards the art studio where Tessa had run to.

Richie let the tears fall down his face, hurt, confused, and scared.

*****

“Tessa?” Mac looked around for his partner in her dark study. She hadn’t turned the lights on, and he hoped she hadn’t gone out the back door into the night. He knew that what she had walked into looked bad, but they had been together for over a decade, that had to count for something when jumping to conclusions.

“Tessa!” he called out in relieve when he found her sitting on her stool in front of the project she was currently working on. Even in the dark, he saw her wipe away her tears before facing him.

“What was that?” Tessa questioned accusingly.

Mac wanted to reach out and comfort her, but wisely assumed that that would not be welcome at the moment. “An unfortunate misunderstanding, Tessa.” Mac struggled to explain as he himself was still trying to figure out what had happened and how things had gone so horribly wrong so quickly. “I was telling Richie that I felt that things were going well, and I started telling him about his salary for working in the store but he froze, and, before I could figure out what was wrong, he was on his knees in front of me.”

Tessa took in a shuddering breath. “That poor boy, I can’t imagine what he has gone through to cause him to assume that he needs to, well, service you.”

A heartbreaking thought, but not completely unexpected. “We knew going in that Richie had a troubled childhood, Tessa.” Mac reminded her.

“Yes, but a visual confirmation of that still hurts.”

Mac nodded. “Imagine how _he_ is feeling.”

“Scared and confused,” Tessa acknowledged. “Mac?” If you would ask her later, she wouldn’t be able to tell you what caused her to ask, “You’re not interested in Richie in that way, right? You’ll never have sex with him?”

“What?!?” Mac exclaimed in shock. He opened his mouth to express his horror of the question. Then closed his mouth as he stopped to process the question. The ‘no lying’ rule wasn’t just for Richie, honesty was an important part in his relationship with Tessa. True, he didn’t tell her everything, 400 years of living and the way of immortality was complex, but he never outright lied to her. These last few weeks he had been omitting some information though, perhaps it was time, even though it was hard for Tessa, or any mortal, to understand immortal life.

Mac sighed and pulled up another stool next to Tessa. Tessa in the meantime looked both horrified and curious. It should have been a simple question to answer after all.

“Never is a long time, Tessa.” Mac started.

“For you, but not for me or Richie.” Tessa countered. “So you do want him?” She asked once more.

“Actually,” Mac finally admitted the initial reason for taking Richie in. “With some luck, never is a long time for both me and Richie. Richie is like me, Tess, or he will be after his first death.”

“Oh” Tessa said almost silently.

“Tessa, at the moment I have no romantic or sexual interest in Richie.” Mac finally answered her question. “That said, I hope he’ll become a close friend. When living as long as we do, good friends are hard to find and even harder to keep. My first goal with Richie is to support him and guide him until he can protect and support himself. Second, I want to build a relationship with him and strengthen it, and we’ll see where that will lead us. So, while it’s not a conscious goal, I cannot tell you that I’ll _never_ want Richie that way.”

Mac finished his explanation, and felt he had done a pretty good job, though Tessa was still silent, apparently processing everything he had just told her.

“What I do know,” Mac continued. “Is that I love you, I want you and only you, and should that ever change, we’ll talk about it just as we promised to each other years ago.”

“Tessa.”

Tessa nodded. “I heard you. Just, these last few weeks, I’m been trying to understand your life, the game, other immortals and your interaction with them. I’ve known for years that immortal life is different, but now I’m getting glances of how different it really is. I know you love me and won’t betray me, but with me it’s play-pretend for a few decades for you.” Mac tried to argue that phrase, but Tessa pressed on. “I don’t mean that in a bad way, but you’ve been trying to stay out of the game, living the mortal way of life, but that’s not who you are, it’s not what you are. Your time with me is such as small part of your life, while it’s my whole life. I’ll support you with Richie, he’s a good kid and has lots of potential. Just don’t shut me out, I love you and I want to be part of your life, even if it isn’t always easy.”

Mac smiled and leaned forward to kiss her. “Thanks, Tessa. If we’re good here, I’m going back to Richie. I told him to go to his room and wait for me there. Which, now that I think of it, wasn’t a good choice of words under the circumstances.”

*****

Richie had done as told, and was sitting on the edge of his bed, holding an ice-pack to the back of his head.  His head was still hurting, but his brain wouldn’t stop worrying. Both Tessa and Mac were upset when they left him in the living room. He couldn’t believe Mac hadn’t told her his intend. How did he expect to keep it a secret from her? Yet Tessa went to bed seemingly knowing that Mac wasn’t going to join her. And Mac told Richie he would join him in Richie’s bedroom. Richie had been hoping that a blowjob now and then would suffice, but Mac’s instructions to be ready for him in his own bedroom did not bode well for Richie and brought the damn tears back threating to fall.

Angrily, Richie wiped his eyes dry, again. “Stop it!” He whispered to himself. “You’re not 15 anymore, you can take whatever Mac throws at you.”

It seemed to take forever till Mac returned, yet the moment came way too quickly. Mac walked in and Richie sat frozen on the bed. Mac was calm but did not look happy.

Richie didn’t move as Mac grabbed the chair from the desk area and placed it in front of where Richie was seated, with a couple feet in between. “How is your head?”

“It hurts,” Richie said honestly, but didn’t want to make the evening even more upsetting for Mac and added “But I’ll be fine, I can still take care of you.”

Mac nodded, but did not seem any happier.

“Or take any punishment you see fit.” Richie added in a whisper, trying to please the older man, though not knowing what he had done wrong.

He heard Mac sigh, and watched the man close his eyes. When he opened his eyes, Richie was overcome with the sadness he saw in them.

“Richie, what did I tell you earlier on the couch, before Tessa returned?” Mac started.

Richie thought fast. Did he miss an instruction? Is that why Mac is upset with him? “You mentioned that I had done well this first week. And asked if I was alright.”

Richie paused, still trying to remember whatever he had missed.

“Go on, what else?” Mac prodded.

“You said it was time for me to pay for all that you and Tessa had so kindly given. I’m sorry if I didn’t hear an instruction or…” Richie stopped again as he saw Mac shaking his head.

“Richie, who taught you to use sex as a form of payment?”

The question threw Richie. “What?”

“You heard me.” Mac countered.

“I…” Honesty was the rule, though he could say that he wasn’t ready to talk about that. But what would that communicate? That he still wasn’t mature enough to pay his dues? He didn’t want to anger Mac any further. Frankly, at this point, he wished Mac would just fuck him and get it over with.  A blow job obviously wasn’t going to cut it. Perhaps that’s what Mac was upset about!

Thinking he had figured out his mistake, Richie continued with more confidence. “A foster father who I was with when I was 15. He taught me how to blow him. I was young and scared, and when he started talking about fucking me, I ran away. I still have never done that, but it’s alright Mac, you’re nothing like him.”

Richie reached forward, and with trembling fingers he started unbuttoning Mac’s shirt from the top down.

Warm gentle hands once again covered his, again pulling them away. This time, Mac held his hands in his between them. Richie heart raced, the gentleness of Mac’s hands, the sadness in Mac’s eyes, it didn’t match the situation they were in, and it scared Richie to be so lost. Did he mention before that he wished Mac would just fuck him and get it over with? Yeah, that was definitely preferred over whatever this was.

Not letting go of Richie’s hands, Mac started talking. “Richie, yes I want to talk with you about payment, but I was talking about us paying you money for your work in the store. Considering you’re also getting room and board, we want to start with $3 an hour. We know that that’s not a lot nowadays, but when you become more independent and can hold more responsibilities at the store we’ll increase it.” Mac finished his explanation he had originally planned, not really knowing how to address Richie’s actions. Even after 400 years, he still wasn’t prepared for everything life throws at him.

While still confused and in shock, this time Richie had heard all that Mac had said. It took 5 seconds for his brain to catch up with what that meant, and then… Richie ran to the bathroom and emptied his stomach in the toilet bowl. Here Mac and Tessa were being amazing people who, for some crazy reason, thought he was worth their time and effort, and he had to ruin it by showing them just how broken he was. No wonder Tessa had been so shocked, she was disgusted with him, and Richie couldn’t even contemplate what Mac must be thinking of him. Richie had assaulted him twice in one night!

Tears ran down Richie’s face as his body finally realized that his stomach was empty and he could stop dry-heaving. He felt a hand calmingly rub his back, and a wet warm cloth appeared in front of him which he took to wipe his face and mouth. “I’m so sorry,” Richie said between hick-ups.

*****

“Shhh, it’s alright, take a few deep breaths.” Mac said quietly.

With an arm over Richie’s shoulder and a hand at his hip, Mac guided him up and slowly they made their way over to the bed. There, Mac maneuvered Richie to sit up against the headboard, removing his shoes, and pulling the comforter over Richie’s jeans covered legs. Then Mac set down next to Richie, on top of the comforter. Comfort was what Mac was going for, and it was usually easier to talk about the hard parts of life when not looking directly at someone.

Richie took a few deeps breaths as instructed, then wiped away the last few tears from his face. “I’m sorry,” he apologized again, “I’ll…”

“Hush,” Mac interrupted.

Richie quickly closed his mouth. Staring ahead of him, waiting to find out what Mac was going to say or do. He was expecting Mac to throw him out, having caused so much trouble.

“We’re going to talk, and I’m going to ask you some questions, Richie. As always, I expect you to be honest with me, but if you can’t answer honestly, don’t answer.”

Richie nodded.

Mac reached out with his left hand, and Richie flinched when it made in contact with his chin. Pushing down the anger Mac felt towards anyone who had hurt Richie so badly, Mac ignored the flinch and turned Richie’s face so that they were looking at each other. When Richie’s scared eyes met his, and Mac knew Richie was hearing him, he added. “No matter what you tell me today, I will not kick you out.”

Confusion and relief filled Richie. Richie nodded his understanding and turned to stare ahead of himself as soon as Mac released his chin.

“While I don’t need descriptive details, it’s obvious that I need to know a bit more about you, so that we won’t have these types of misunderstands again.” Mac willed Richie to understand why they needed to have this uncomfortable conversation.

“Let’s start with the main rules, and I’m not looking to punish you for breaking any of them. But we need to talk about the past and present when it comes to those rules. First, no lying, I think we’ve been good on that so far. Am I right, Richie?”

Richie silently nodded.

“If this is going to work, I’m going to need you to talk with me, Richie.”

Richie remained silent for another minute, gathering his thoughts and courage; this was an easy question, but Richie knew that it wasn’t going to last. “I haven’t lied to you or Tessa so far.” Richie confirmed.

“And in the past?” Mac prompted.

Richie shrugged, “I would say and do whatever was in my best interest. I mostly think of myself as a thief, but I’m also somewhat of a con-artist.”

“Thank you, Richie. I appreciate you telling me that. Tessa and I want you to feel at home here, a place where you can be yourself. While I understand that this first week you’ve been on your best behavior, we do not expect you to be perfect, we want to get to know the real you and love you for who you are.”

“Right.” Richie whispered sarcastically, though he knew that Mac heard it since he was sitting right next to him.

“I understand that you’re skeptical, but please give us a chance, give yourself a chance.”

Richie remained silent, just waiting for Mac to move on with this ‘heart to heart’ conversation.

“Alright, next, drugs. I believe that you were being honest with me that first day, that you are currently not using. But how about in the past, your life has been rough, and drugs are a tempting way to escape it all. Have you used in the past, is addiction something we have to look out for?”

“No, not really.” Richie sighed. “I’ve tried coke once but didn’t like how out of control that made me feel. I’ve seen what meth does to a person, so you can’t pay me enough to touch that junk. I did smoke weed a few times, but never bought it myself, just smoked when it was handed down by friends.”

Mac nodded, expressing no judgement. “And your friend you spend time with yesterday?”

“Angie? No way, she was always the best of us. She got handed a few rough deals family wise, like most of us, but she never strayed from the path, you know.”

“Is she your girlfriend?” Mac asked, out of pure curiosity.

“Nah, she’s more like a sister.” Richie looked up at Mac for the first time since they started this conversation. “I’ve never had a girl.”

Simple words, but Mac thought he knew what Richie meant. “A boyfriend?” He questioned just to be sure. Richie’s shake of his head confirmed his thoughts of what Richie was telling him; he had never willingly had sex.

“So, no lying, no drugs, and I think I know where you stand on stealing.” Mac moved the conversation on, but leaving the current none-spoken conversation drop for now. “How about alcohol?”

“Sure, I’ve had a few beers, much like the weed; never bought it myself, but didn’t refuse when offered by friends. I haven’t had any since I moved in though.”

Mac smiled at receiving a complete and honest answer without prompting or reluctance. Richie was sounding more confident, hopefully realizing that Mac was being truthful when he said Richie wouldn’t get into trouble no matter what he said during this conversation. “Tessa and I are both European, so don’t mind you having a glass of wine with dinner when we’re having one.”

Richie’s face at the thought of wine was comical. Mac just saw it as a challenge to himself to make the boy appreciate the finer things in life; art, antiques, and wine.

“But other than that, no alcohol until you’re 21. Not in nor out of the house.”

Richie nodded, seemingly not concerned with being able to abstain from drinking.

“Good, then last but not least, no prostitution.” Mac said, fearing what this part of their conversation would dig up, but based on the events of tonight, he clearly needed to know and help Richie understand it himself.

“I’ve never!” Richie protested like he wanted to do that first night.

Mac didn’t argue but tried a different approach. “Prostitution is giving access to your body in exchange of money, goods, or other services.”

“Which is what I offered you tonight,” Richie said in realization.

Mac remained silent, giving Richie some time to process.

“I’ve never done that before, I swear!” Richie turned defensive.

“I belief you, and I’m happy to hear it.” Mac said calmly. “But I wanted you to know that it is what you did tonight, in the hope that it will never happen again. Keep sex as an expression of love, Richie. Do not use it as power or payment.”

“Power?”

“Yes, power. When you spoke about what happened when you were 15, it sounded like you were scared, you didn’t offer, he forced it upon you; power. Which, just so we’re clear, was in no way your fault. Yes, tonight you were scared too, but you offered it as payment. Still wrong for any adult to have taken you up on the offer, but, ignoring that, it would have been up to me to accept it as simple payment or to turn it into power play. Of course, the act of sex is the same, but the emotions behind it for all involved are different. Sex for love is elevating, sex for any other reason is devastating. From now on Richie, respect yourself and only have sex out of love.”

Again, Richie took some time to really think about what Mac said, and Mac patiently waited.

“I will. Mac, thank you. For… everything.” 

Mac smiled and moved to get off the bed.

“Mac?” Richie stopped him.

“Yes, Richie?”

“I lied to you.” Richie admitted to Mac’s surprise.

“Okay, then please correct yourself by sharing the truth with me.” Mac replied calmly, though he was both worried and curious as to what Richie lied about.

“Earlier today, I told you that no one had fucked me before, but that it was alright, that you could do so.”

Mac held his breath and waited.

“The first part was true, but not that last part. I’m not ready, and I wasn’t alright with it.” Richie acknowledged. “But the fact is that I was willing to give it up anyway because you and Tessa have been so great, and I’m really grateful to be living here with you. Thank you for sharing your home with me so freely.”

Mac blinked away the tears that were blurring his vision. “Thank you for your honesty, and you’re very welcome. We enjoy having you here with us.”


	3. Chapter 3

Two weeks later, the alarm clock rang at 7 am, trying to do its job of waking up Richie to get ready for another day. Unfortunately, it failed. Richie had been awake for a while now; he woke up over an hour ago to a growling stomach.

Tessa had an art show coming up, and she and Mac had been busy, running around to get things ready in time. Richie was proud of Tessa, having seen her art (he wasn’t an expert, but it looked good to him) and knowing how important this show was for her career. 

Richie’s stomach growled once more. The only problem with all this was that they had been too busy to regularly sit down for meals these past few days. Till now, Tessa and Mac had been great about regularly inviting Richie to join them for meals. Not every time, but usually, and skipping a meal every now and then was nothing Richie wasn’t used to. However, these last three days, Richie missed two dinners, one lunch, and two breakfasts. He was hungry.

Richie forced himself out of bed and into the bathroom. If he didn’t get out of bed, he would definitely not get invited to eat. Richie got dressed, once more rubbed the towel over his hair in an attempt to dry it, and walked to the kitchen where on most days Mac and Tessa would be getting breakfast ready.

As soon as he walked in, he knew it was another unusual day in their household. Mac was on the phone, and Tessa walked passed him toward her studio with a coffee mug in her hand and a piece of toast in her mouth.

“Morning, Richie.” She mumbled as she passed.

“Morning, Tess.” Richie replied as she disappeared from sight. He turned to Mac, who had just hung up the phone. “Good morning, Mac.”

“Hi, Richie. Something has come up, I’ve got to go. Can you please run the store for me today and tomorrow?”

“Yes, of course.” Richie replied proudly. He had been working hard, trying to learn as much as possible, but to be trusted to open the store by himself after only 3 weeks was an honor, regardless of the situation that caused Mac not to be able to do so himself.

“Feel free to call me if there are any problems or if a customer has a question you can’t answer. Remember, don’t just make up a story or a price, check the computer and otherwise call me.”

Richie nodded, “No worries Mac, I’ve got this.”

“Good, thank you.” Mac said, gathering his wallet and keys as he was getting ready to leave.

*Speak up, Richie. Just ask for one thing, Mac won’t mind this one time. He’s too busy to realize you’re being ungrateful.*

“Mac,” Richie finally said as Mac opened the door, ready to leave. “May I have some orange juice?”

Mac turned around, looking somewhat startled. “What, yes, of course. I really got to go. Later Richie.”

The door closed, leaving the kitchen in silence. Richie opened a kitchen cabinet and reached for a large glass, only to freeze just before he grabbed one. “You asked for ‘some’ orange juice, Richie. Don’t betray his trust in you.” Richie told himself quietly and took out a medium-size glass instead.

Orange juice wasn’t solid nor very filling, but it had sugar for energy and vitamins. It would do. He slowly sipped his breakfast, before washing the glass and returning it to its place. Time to get ready to open the store.

*********

Time went fast the first few hours of Richie’s first day running the store by himself. Tessa had in the meantime left as well, loading the last few of her art pieces into a rented van and driving to the gallery that was hosting the show to set everything up for the following day.

Richie made a few sales. They were smaller items, but he figured that Mac would still be pleased.

Now it was almost lunch time, and Richie’s stomach was hurting from hunger. Last Friday, when he received his second paycheck, Mac had taken him to a bank to open a savings account so that Richie could save money to buy a motorcycle. With all his money in the bank, and there being no way that Richie was taking money from the cash register, Richie’s brain was thinking of alternatives. Unfortunately, Richie Ryan’s first instinct was still to steal. He could easily pick-pocket someone and get himself something to eat from one of the food trucks just a few blocks from the store.

Of course, right after that thought, he heard Mac’s voice telling him that if he needed anything, he should ask Tessa or Mac, and should he ever slip-up and steal anyway they would ‘deal with it.’ So far, Richie hadn’t broken any of Mac’s rules, not counting that disastrous Friday evening two weeks ago. However, seeing as at that time Richie hadn’t realized that he had propositioned Mac, it seemed that Mac had forgiven him for that indiscretion after a long talk.

Richie didn’t want to break Mac’s rules, but also felt like he couldn’t bother Tessa or Mac with this at the moment, and he was _really_ hunger.

An old-fashioned clock on the wall chimed to announce that it was noon, and Richie put up the ‘closed for lunch’ sign and locked the store’s door.

Undecided, Richie walked into the living room to grab his jacket and went out the back.

20 minutes and four missed pick-pocketing opportunities later, Richie still had nothing to eat and no money to purchase any food. He silently cursed Mac’s moral influence on him and turned around to head back to the store.

One block from the store, Richie passed one of those cheap hotdog-stands that already had the hotdogs laying around wrapped in foil ready to be taken. The owner was busy talking to a family of four who were all happily munching on their hotdogs. Almost unconsciously, Richie’s hand reached out to grab a wrapped hotdog as he passed and kept on walking.

Richie held his breath as he waited for anyone to yell out for him to stop, but his theft went unnoticed. He let himself back into the kitchen through the backdoor and unwrapped his price. Richie debated for a second but gave in and went into the fridge to take some ketchup.

Richie took his time to enjoy his first solid meal in 24 hours, before cleaning up to hide the evidence of his crime. Afterward, he drank a glass of water and went back to the store.

By the time it was 6 pm, closing time, he had still not heard from Tessa or Mac. Richie closed up the store and made himself comfortable in the living room.

7 o’clock, 8 o’clock, still no Mac or Tessa. Richie got up and wandered to the kitchen, his hunger pains were back, and it looked like there was once again no dinner in his future. He picked up the phone with the intention to call Mac, but froze, then put the phone back down. His eyes landed on the fruit bowl on the kitchen counter. It was filled with green apples. Surely, they wouldn’t even notice.

Richie sighed and promised himself that this was the last thing he would steal, after the art show tomorrow things would go back to normal. Mac had even spoken about a celebratory dinner after the show. Hopefully, Richie would be included in that celebration.

Richie took his apple back to the couch, ate all but the stem, and with a somewhat satisfied stomach and an energy-deprived exhaustion, Richie fell asleep on the couch.

*******

“Richie!” Tessa yelled, startling the young man awake. “How could you!” She went on, still yelling.

“What?” Richie asked clearly expressing his confusion.

“The apple, you ate one of the green apples!”

Richie felt his stomach drop. Not only had she noticed, she was clearly upset with him. “I’m sorry, Tessa.”

“You’re sorry? Sorry isn’t going to fix my apple pie now is it?”

Richie figured it was a rhetorical question and stayed silent.

The backdoor opened, and Mac walked into the living room. “What’s going on?” He questioned confused. “I can hear you all the way outside, Tessa.”

“I come home after a long day, looking forward to baking my apple pie, only to find one missing. Richie ate it! Now I don’t have enough apples for the pie!” Tessa explained, loudly.

“Tessa, you’re yelling at Richie because he ate an apple?” Mac tried to get her to see reason.

“They were for my apple pie.” Tessa replied sadly.

Richie was still seated, silently watching the scene unfold before him, waiting for Mac to realize that Tessa wasn’t upset about the apple, but about the fact that he stole it.

“Did Richie know that the apples were for a pie?” Mac countered.

“Well, no, I don’t think I told him. We’ve all been so busy; we haven’t really seen each other much this week.” Tessa admitted.

“I’m sorry about the apple, Tessa.” Richie decided to speak up and appear remorseful.

“And I’m sorry for yelling at you, Richie. I guess I’m nervous for tomorrow, but that’s no excuse to take it out on you.”

Richie shrugged. “I had no right to steal the apple, it won’t happen again.” He offered.

At that Mac turned and looked at Richie. “Richie, what do you mean you stole the apple?”

“I didn’t ask either of you if I could eat the apple, but I was really hungry, so I took it anyway.” Richie said honestly, hoping that that would count for something.

Tessa took a step forward and looked like she was going to say something, but Mac held a hand up to stop her. He sat down next to Richie, and Tessa followed, sitting down in the loveseat next to the couch.

*There it comes. Congratulations, Richie, you’re going to find out what an immortal means when he says he’ll ‘deal with it.’*

“Richie, what did you have for dinner?” Mac asked.

Confused as to why Mac was asking him questions instead of hitting him or something, Richie answered. “The apple.”

Mac and Tessa exchanged looks, but Richie was starring at his hands in his lap and didn’t notice.

“What was for lunch, Richie?” Tessa asked, catching on to what Mac was thinking.

Richie closed his eyes in shame as he admitted: “I stole a hotdog from the stand around the corner.”

Tessa’s gasp brought back unpleasant memories from two weeks ago, the previous time he had done something Tessa wasn’t happy with. Mac had forgiven Richie that same evening, but it had taken Tessa a couple of days to be comfortable around him again.

“And breakfast?” Mac continued.

Richie looked up, Mac knew what Richie had for breakfast, he had given him permission for it. “A glass of orange juice, like you said I could have.” Richie reminded him.

“Why?” Tessa asked.

“Why, what?” Richie countered, not understand the question.

Ignoring Tessa’s question, Mac continued his own path into this mystery. “Richie, when was the last time he ate a complete meal?”

Was Mac suffering from memory loss? Could immortals suffer from memory loss? Richie sure was at a loss as to why Mac kept asking questions he knew the answer to. “Yesterday, for lunch, we closed the store at noon and you invited me to join you.” Richie reminded him.

“You eat when we invite you to eat.” Mac stated his realization.

Though it wasn’t a question, Richie answered anyway. “Well, yes. I know I eat a lot; I’ve always been told I eat too much, but I try to limit it. I’m sorry if I’ve been eating too much, I’ll do better.”

Without warning, Mac wrapped an arm around Richie and pulled him close, his other arm joining in for a hug. Richie froze, not knowing what was happening. A little later, he felt Tessa on the other side of him, joining the hug.

Tessa was the first to let go and sit up. “No wonder you are skin and bones! Sweetheart, we are so sorry that we did not make it clear that you are free to eat anything and everything you want, without needing to ask.”

Mac finally let go, and Richie looked up at him, shocked to see tears running down Mac’s face.

Mac took a moment to gather himself, but then voiced his agreement. “Yes, Richie. Please forgive us for not seeing our mistake. We did not realize you were limiting your food intake and that you were not eating unless specifically invited to do so. You are always free to eat anything we have in the house, and if we’re out of food, please speak up and we’ll get more.”

Richie was still dazed, “You mean you’re upset that I haven’t been eating all your food, but not that I stole food?”

Mac laughed. “I guess that does seem backward to you. But, yes.”

“Okay…” Richie was trying to take their word for it but was still doubtful.

“However,” Mac continued, “Tomorrow, you and I will be stopping by the hotdog-stand so that you can apologize and pay for the hotdog you stole.”

Tomorrow, Richie would resent Mac for making him face and fix his mistake, but at the moment, he was just too happy to hear that they were not angry with him for eating their food to worry about that. “Yes, Sir.” He said with a smile.

Mac laughed, and together they walked to the kitchen to have a light meal before bed.


	4. Chapter 4

“Richie?” Mac called out from the office. “That was Mrs. Harris on the phone, she wants us to ship the Lladro figurine to her. Can you wrap it up and send it out?”

“Sure, Mac.” Richie replied. He stopped wiping off fingerprints from one of the glass cabinets and went to get the figurine for Mrs. Harris. He was making his way toward the counter where the wrapping materials were, when he tripped on his apparently untied shoelaces. Richie fell forward, and by instinct his hands tried to break the fall, causing the Lladro figurine to slip out of his hands and shatter into a million pieces.

The commotion brought Mac running. “Don’t move, Richie.” He said sternly.

“Ouch” Richie exclaimed. Despite the warning, Richie sat upon his knees to get off his bloody hands that were covered in sharp pieces of ceramics. He felt more pieces cutting into his knees, but the relief on his hands was worth it.

“Stay still,” Mac reminded him and took a broom to move most of the ceramic pieces that were all around Richie off to the side. Then he went to the front door and put the closed sign up.

Richie in the meantime still sat on his knees, frozen in shock, staring at his hands, which were now dripping blood onto the floor.

Mac wrapped a towel loosely around Richie’s hand, and took hold of his elbow, helping Richie to his feet and guiding him into the apartment.

They stopped walking when Richie found himself in front of the kitchen sink.  Mac turned the cold water on and pulled Richie’s hands under the water. Richie winced, the water pressure adding to his pain, and tried to pull his hands away. However, Mac held onto his wrists tightly, not letting him move away.

“Don’t move,” Mac told him. “I’m going to get the first aid kit.”

Mac was back quickly, and Richie was grateful when Mac turned off the water. That feeling was short-lived though when Mac guided him to sit at the kitchen table and expertly started pulling porcelain pieces out of his hands.

Once Mac declared his hands cleared off shards, he wrapped Richie’s hands in thick bandages.

Richie looked at his now wrapped hands and started to realize the damage he had done. Not only couldn’t he do much of anything while his hands were healing, he just ruined an antique worth $500, one that Mac had already sold.

“Alright,” Mac spoke up. “Jeans off.”

Richie’s head snapped up. This was the first time he truly screwed up, not counting the messes he made due to misunderstandings. But knowing that he screwed up didn’t keep him from speaking up. “Mac, no, please…” he started, but Mac ignored him and reached for Richie’s pants.

Richie stood frozen as Mac unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down Richie’s thighs. Tears fell down his face and images of similar past events took control. Richie being 10 years old, a foster mom pulling him over her knee to swat his bare bum with the back of her brush. Richie being 12 years old, a foster dad pulling his jeans down to beat him with his own belt. Richie being 15 years old, a foster dad pulling his pajama pants down and exploring his private parts with his hands, talking about how soon he would be ready to properly please him.  

When Richie came back to the here and now, he found himself on the couch in the living room, wrapped in a blanket. He was leaning against Mac’s chest, Mac’s large hands rubbing his arms over the blanket. He would hear Mac whisper “I’m sorry, you’re safe, I’m so sorry.”

Richie sat up, holding the blanket tight around him, wiping his face with the back of his bandaged right hand.

“Richie?” Mac gently asked, staying where he was on the couch, giving Richie space.

“I’m okay.” Richie sniffed, not sounding very convincing.

“I’m so sorry,” Mac apologized once more. “I wanted to clean up the cuts on your knees, and with your hands all bandaged up, I didn’t’ think and just… pulled down your pants.”

Richie remained silent, the event still too raw to just forgive Mac. Though, wait, Mac wanted to clean up the cuts on his knees? He didn’t pull down his pants to hand out punishment?

Not comprehending, Richie voiced that last thought.

“What, no!” Mac argued.

“But, I destroyed a $500 piece!” Richie couldn’t believe he was trying to convince Mac that he deserved punishment.

“Richie, it was an accident. Accidents happen. I’m not going to punish you over it, and even if you were in need of punishment, I don’t believe in corporal punishment.”

“You’re not going to hit me?” Richie asked in awe.

“No, I’m not going to hit you.” Mac confirmed.

“No matter what I do.” Richie questioned.

“No matter what you do, I will not hit or physically hurt you in any way as punishment.” Mac said, leaving no doubt.

Richie slowly nodded, believing Mac’s promise.

“In that case,” Richie said as he pulled the blanket up his legs to reveal his knees. “Any chance you’re willing to clean these cuts?”

As he watched Mac clean his damaged knees, Richie felt an inner peace settle, one he had never felt before. He was safe, he was loved, he was home.

 

The End


End file.
